


She Walks In Beauty

by in_motu_proprio



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: F/M, Injured Hansel, Sibling Incest, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 16:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3775801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_motu_proprio/pseuds/in_motu_proprio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hansel's hurt, Gretel makes him feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Walks In Beauty

  
That spiny haired bitch’s words stuck with Gretel. _Go fuck yourselves. No, better… go fuck each other._ Those words had her looking at Hansel a little differently as they left Augsburg. He was devastated about Mina, but she honestly didn’t know if that was because of the girl herself or if it was more the entirety of their trip to that shitty little town. He was in particularly bad humor one day as they tromped through Greece, and Gretel decided that tonight they needed an inn. His back was hurting him from sleeping on the ground and tromping through uneven ground. She could see it in his posture, in his gait. So Edward and Ben slept with the wagons and Hansel and she got a room. She ordered a bath for him and paid the woman behind the counter before taking his bag and ushering him toward the stairs. 

“It’s a waste of money. I’m not even dirty.”

“You smell like a pig humped a camel, Hansel. You’re taking a bath. Plus, the heat will be good for your back.” He shot her a dirty look but didn’t object. He’d clearly rethought objecting when he took off his jacket. It required him to move a bit and since he’d been holding himself so tightly, it was clear that the act was painful for Hansel. “Let me.” He stopped fighting it as Gretel came up behind him and took off his long coat. “Let me get your boots.” He didn’t object, just stood still as she unlaced his boots and helped him out of them. 

By the time Hansel was bootless, there was a knock at the door. Four maids came in and set up the tub. Hansel turned away like he usually did when there was a pretty girl, leaving Gretel to direct the women. Why did he do that, she wondered. Why turn away? He was pink, embarrassed, but it wasn’t like he was hard or something. He wasn’t hiding anything, it was more like he was hiding _from_ something. 

The women left and Gretel came to him again, reaching for the buttons of his waistcoat. She knew it shouldn’t feel good to undress him, it was weird that it felt good. That didn’t stop it from making her shiver, though. They were close and his hand had come to rest on her hip for stability. They hugged each other, slept in the same bed sometimes, but this closeness was different. The witch’s words came to Gretel again. What would happen if they did? Gretel pulled back from the thought hard as she helped him strip to the waist. “Think you can handle your pants? I need to use the privy.” Hansel nodded and Gretel got herself free before she did something stupid. 

Gretel left him to get out of his pants, heading downstairs to get a drink. He’d get in the tub, she was pretty sure of that. She would just tell him she’d been waylaid by Edward or something. Jesus Christ, though. Maybe the bitch had actually cast a spell on her. She thought about Hansel, about how badly beaten he’d been, and finished her drink quickly. She bought a bottle of something strong, a loaf of bread, a cheese, and a sausage. The innkeeper’s wife threw in a bunch of carrots, too. Gretel took it all upstairs, taking a couple of breaths before entering the room she’d be sharing with Hansel that night. 

She was surprised to find him still sitting on the chair in the corner, muddy and disgusting with his bath rapidly cooling. “Hansel,” Gretel chastised. “What is wrong with you?” 

“Can’t manage the pants,” he told her with a shrug. “Help me out?” Now he wanted out of the pants, Gretel thought. It wasn’t like Hansel was thinking anything dirty. This guilt laid 100% on her head. 

“Sure. Stand up.” Gretel set down the booze and dinner and went to Hansel, feeling her insides twist up into a knot as she walked. “Did you hurt your hand again?” Gretel came in close and quickly unbuttoned his trousers, looking away as he shifted a few times and they started to fall. His hand was on her hip, seemingly to steady himself, but Gretel’s heart didn’t know that. It was pounding hard like he was a long lost lover touching her. When she looked p, Gretel noticed Hansel’s eyes were unfocused, that he wash’t locking in on her. “Hansel…your hand?”

“Dislocated my thumb,” Hansel looked away, reaching down to push his pants down one handed. “I put it back in, but it hurts.” Gretel took his hand in hers, turning it over and getting an unexpected shudder from her brother. “It’s fine,” he pulled back his hand and turned to get in the tub. Gretel tried not to look, she really did, but Hansel was unsteady and she didn’t want him to keel over or trip. So Gretel’s hand went to the small of his back and she gave him her arm to steady him while he sunk down into the tub. “Thanks,” he gritted out, still not looking at her. He had that bright pink flush high on his cheeks that he got when people talked about sex or there was nudity. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him naked before. 

“Let me get out of a few layers and I’ll help you do your back.” Gretel really did mean it as a friendly, loving thing to do. She did not intend it to be dirty. She stripped out of her coat and waistcoat. Her trousers were peeled off along with her boots. Neither of them were new to her walking around in just her shirt. Plus, that would give her a buffer. Thank GOD she couldn’t get a hard on or she’d be totally screwed.

**************************************************************************************

Gretel was stripping. Why… WHY was Gretel stripping? Hansel was humiliated enough that he had to have her help him out of his pants and into the tub. He didn’t even want the fucking bath in the first place, and yet here he was trying as hard as he could not to watch Gretel strip down to her shirt. He grumbled to himself for a moment, covering it with a splash. His sister had incredible legs. They were long and lean, and ended in a heart shaped ass that he could stare at for hours while they walked. Hansel was well-aware that it was wrong, but he was also aware that Gretel had been his only choice since the beginning. Mina was nice, and he could indulge in a farm girl now and then, but Gretel was who he wanted, who he needed.

So instead of finding another life, instead of trying to be normal, he followed her into the witch hunting business. And now she was coming close, the light from the candles making her curves more obvious through the shirt. Hansel looked away. “Like I haven’t seen you naked,” Gretel chastised, and Hansel couldn’t help but notice there was a tremble in her voice. Gretel didn’t get emotional much, but right now he could feel it on her. 

“Gretel?” She shook her head. She didn’t want to talk and he would respect that for a little while. So instead of leaving him, and instead of him pressing, they sat there, him in the tub, her leaning in next to him, perched on the side so she could wash his back. Gretel took her time, and Hansel watched the splashes of water dripping on her shirt so it clung to her, some parts showing more than it should. He tried to look away, but another splash or shift would bring a little more of her into view. Hansel’s hands twitched, wanting to touch her thighs. No, he didn’t just want to touch them. He wanted to grab them, to pull her into the tub with him and…. 

Gretel was looking at him expectantly and Hansel just shrugged. that was usually the way to go. Either she’d repeat her question or just do what she wanted. In this case, it was washing his hair. Gretel leaned him back before he could open his mouth. Now his burgeoning problem would be evident. He watched, noting the moment she registered it by the little hitch of breath. Hansel felt the pulse pressed to his shoulder, her thin wrist resting there, speed. Why, though? Arousal, he hoped. Or did he? Jesus this was crappy. This was really fucking crappy of the universe to make the one person in the world he actually loved be his sister. 

“Hansel,” she said softly, her hand moving down a little, resting over his heart. She looked shaken and Hansel felt totally responsible. He was corrupting her in ways no brother should. 

“Sorry.” He looked away, shifting his legs to try to hide his shame. Gretel had other ideas, though. She reached into the tub, taking his cock in her strong hand. “Gretel…. What are you doing?” She stroked him, looking back at him with that wide-set gaze that stopped his heart. “Gretel, you don’t have to. It’s not….”

Then she really stopped his heart. “And what if I want to? What if I want to make you cum, Hansel?” Gretel stroked his chest with one hand while she stroked his cock with the other. “Would you let me do that?” She forced him to look at her, her wet fingertips leaving trails on his neck and cheek. “Let me, Hansel.” He had no way to object to that look and just nodded a little, a shaking hand coming from where he’d been white knuckling the edge of the tub so he could take her face and give her bottom lip a swipe with the pad of his thumb. 

“Are you sure?” She nodded and leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Gretel, it’s….” She silenced him with a long, strong pull from root to tip, ripping a deep groan from him. Gretel had strong, sure hands, and a beautiful set of breasts pressed into his back. He felt her spread her legs and come to sit behind him in the tub, perched on the edge. Her lips pressed to his shoulder, up over his neck as she stroked him. Hansel was torn between elation and humiliation, between horror at what he was doing and joy at the same. “Gretel, I’m….” She kept stroking and Hansel clouded the water, cock jumping in Gretel’s hand. He reached down under the water to take her hand, leaning back into her as he fought to catch his breath. 

Soon enough, Gretel stood and stepped from the tub. She brought him a wrap and gave him her arm to rise. He still hurt, but he was able to move better now. “Bed,” she nodded at it. When he opened his mouth to protest, Gretel put a finger over it. “You are clean and you are hurt, Hansel. You are not sleeping on the floor.” She spoke as though she hadn’t just jerked him off in the tub. Gretel was still his bossy sister and Hansel, while conflicted, felt good for the first time in a very long time. Considering his luck, he’d take the good when he could find it.


End file.
